


Quicksilver - Memento

by Lhugy_for_short



Series: Death Fears Not the Reaper (Yakuza AU) [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, References to self-harm, Tattoos, Yakuza AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 11:36:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11356710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short
Summary: (Snippet from Quicksilver)Prompto has lived with the painful memories of his past for far too long. Having finally opened up about them to Gladio, he decides to go with his boyfriend to turn his scars into works of art.





	Quicksilver - Memento

**Author's Note:**

> The versions of Prompto and Gladio in this fic are based on my Yakuza AU series [_Death Fears Not the Reaper_](https://archiveofourown.org/series/678041), but this can be read independently. There are some mild spoilers here, but nothing that will really ruin the story as the full reveal about Prompto's past is yet to come ;)  
>  (Sorry for skipping ahead a bit - I wanted to do this scene in time for Promptio Week)

 

"I'm kinda nervous."

"Why? It's just a consultation."

" _ Consultation _ ," Prompto repeated dully, still not convinced. "That makes it sound like I'm going in to buy life insurance, not get a tattoo."

Gladio refrained from rolling his eyes -- it took quite a bit of effort, mind -- as he pulled his father's truck into the parking lot of a quaint, single-story grey building. The sign out front of the shop was small, unassuming, labeled simply, "Meldacio HQ Body Art and Piercings." They took one of the empty parking spaces out front, but Gladio left the engine running as he turned to his boyfriend with a soft smile. 

"You can still change your mind later. I promise, Dave isn't gonna put anything on your body you don't approve of first."

From the passenger's seat, Prompto released a sigh. His hands were folded in his lap, his fingers running nervously over the colorful wrist bands he always wore. "I... I know that."

"Then what's the problem?" Though Gladio's voice was rough as ever, his eyes were smiling as he leaned across the console to kiss the blonde's cheek. "Just let him take a look, and then you can make a decision from there. Okay?"

Another sigh, but this time it was followed by a short nod. "You're going in with me right?"

"Of course. I'll be with you the whole time." Gladio was almost surprised when Prompto reached out to take his hand in his between their seats, but any comment he could have made was cut short the moment large, round blue eyes peered up at him. 

"Then... okay. Let's go."

His reply was a lopsided grin and a reassuring squeeze of his fingers around Prompto's wrist, then they were both getting out of their respective sides of the truck in front of the tattoo parlor. 

A man was already waiting for them when they stepped through the front door. 

"Gladio! Been wondering when y'all'd drop by," he greeted them, haggard face breaking into a smile as he stepped forward. Prompto took in the sight of his arms -- both covered in intricate sleeves of black ink that carried from his forearms up under the edge of his t-shirt -- and knew at once this must be the legendary Dave. 

"Sorry we're late, man." Gladio grinned and met the other with a strong handshake. "Had a case of cold feet on the way over."

The man -- Dave -- turned warm blue eyes on Prompto now, seemingly sizing him up in a single glance. The blonde swallowed, knowing he must have looked out of place compared to the handful of staff and other customers in the shop, all of them large and as least as inked up as Gladio. 

But the gaze on him didn't seem to judge his bright blonde hair or skinny limbs, or even the rainbow-colored bands around his wrist as, turning to face him fully, Dave extended his hand in greeting. "You must be Prompto, then? Pleasure to meetcha. Any friend of Gladio's is a friend of mine."

"O-oh, thank you," Prompto said with a shy smile. "Nice to meet you, too."

Over Dave's shoulder, Gladio was suddenly hovering. " _ Boy _ friend," he corrected, his voice flat. Prompto flared pink, while Dave merely chuckled to himself. "Right, my bad. This way, Mr. Boyfriend. We can have a chat over at my desk." 

Dave led them toward the back of the shop, past chairs and tables where several men and women were patiently holding still under the constant humming of tattoo needles. The sound was enough to rattle Prompto's teeth, and he clenched his fingers tight enough against his palms to leave marks. When they reached the desk, Dave took the seat on the far side and Prompto across from him, leaving Gladio to stand at the blonde's side like an oversized puppy. 

"So, in the email it said you were looking to get a couple of cover-up pieces done," Dave started as he scrolled through some messages on a tablet on the desk. "Ah, here we go. 'Inner wrists, no specifics yet.' Can I ask," he said, turning back up to Prompto. "Are these to cover up old tattoos?"

The blond flushed and dropped his eyes to his lap. "Um, no, I've never gotten a tattoo before. I want to cover up...." He frowned, glanced up at Gladio who merely nodded his head toward Dave and mouthed, _Show_ _him_.

They'd talked about this for weeks. Dave was professional, Dave was a good guy, Dave wouldn't judge him. Prompto knew all of this, and yet somehow his fingers still trembled as he fought to undo each of his wrist bands. For so long he'd kept the scars covered, had hid them away even from himself because they were ugly, they were wrong, they reminded him off how weak he had been in his past. It had taken him months of dating Gladio to be able trust him enough with his secret. But Dave was someone he'd just met five minutes ago. 

"So, um," he started, slowly sliding his bare arms across the desk, palms down. "I guess these are what I want to cover up...." 

For a half-second when he turned over his wrists to show the jagged, white scars running crisscross atop the veins of both arms, he thought he saw Dave's face flicker with surprise. Emotions, too, perhaps -- pity, understanding. But they were gone in an instant, the professional in him taking control as he peered closer. 

"Hmm," was all he said for a long moment. Large but dexterous fingers carefully wrapped around his palms, turned his wrists this way and that while he studied the canvas. "Scar tissue can be tough to ink, but certainly doable. You'll wanna be careful to pick a design that incorporates the scar instead of just filling it in, otherwise they'll stand out even more, you see?" 

Prompto nodded, his throat too tight with nerves to respond. 

"Now, the theme is up to you, but I can help design it if you want. We can practice with a marker and you can wear it for a few days to see if grows on you or not. Since it's you first tattoo, I really want you to think about it carefully, be sure it's what you really want."

A warm hand squeezed his shoulder, and Prompto looked up into amber eyes. "Told you. Nothing to worry about."

Feeling a little less panicked, he nodded and turned his attention back to Dave. "In that case, I do actually have some ideas." 

"Great, let’s get started then." 

Gladio watched in surprise as Prompto drew a small piece of paper out of the pocket of his vest and began to unfold it. For the last week, he’d been adamant that he hadn’t yet decided on a design, or even a theme, and yet here was proof to the contrary. Not only had Prompto apparently put more thought into this than he’d let on, but he’d also gone to the trouble of sketching out several drafts. 

He started to smooth the sheet of paper out on the surface of the desk, and both Dave and Gladio leaned in for a better look. Rough pencil lines filled the page, forming organic shapes and elegant -- if simple -- images of petals, stalks, leaves in varying sizes and angles. Gladio blinked in confusion. “Flowers?” 

“Um. Yeah. I kinda like these,” Prompto answered, his smile almost shy as he cast a glance up at his boyfriend beside him.

Dave was humming thoughtfully as he admired the sketches. He traced his finger over the thick lines of one particular piece, rolled Prompto’s wrist back over to check the shape of the white scars on his skin. Then he nodded to himself as if he’d come to some kind of decision. .

“You’re quite the artist, Prompto,” he said, smiling. “I think we can work with these, if you’re ready?” From out of his desk Dave produced a set of thin-tipped markers in a variety of colors and set them on the table in front of Prompto. “What colors did you have in mind?” 

He chose several markers from out of the collection -- a deep red for his left wrist and a subtle pink for the right -- and settled back in his chair with both arms laid out atop the desk. Dave set to work, falling silent in his concentration, while Prompto focused on keeping still (something he’d never been particularly good at, to be honest). As he watched the designs come to life on his skin, he felt rather than saw Gladio nuzzling up to his ear. 

“Flowers, huh. Interesting choice.” His voice was low, just for the two of them, and filled with a playful tone. “Not exactly what I woulda picked, but they kinda suit you.” 

The blonde hummed softly before leaning a little against his boyfriend’s weight. “I know it sounds silly, but they’re supposed to represent strength.  _ Don’t laugh _ ,” he grinned, sticking his tongue out at Gladio in place of swatting at him. “They also stand for honesty and loyalty. People used to call them ‘sword lilies,’ and grew them over the graves of fallen warriors.” 

“ _ Hm _ , didn’t know you were into that kinda stuff.” Gladio smirked and nodded to the designs starting to take shape on Prompto’s wrists. He had to admit, the theme was well-chosen -- the organic shapes of the petals and leaves easily following the lines of the scars they were meant to cover. “So,” he said, aware of the soft blue eyes still watching him. “What do they call them now?” 

A pause, and then: “Gladiolus.”

It took him a moment. More than anything, it was Dave’s barely suppressed snicker that clued him into what Prompto was trying to tell him. And as soon as the realization sunk in, Gladio’s face flushed white. 

“...Are you serious?” 

Prompto nodded again. His own cheeks were a soft shade of red under scattered freckles. “Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I thought you’d try to talk me out of it.” 

Gladio’s mind was reeling. He glanced down again at the lines being drawn onto Prompto’s skin, struggling with his sudden rush of emotions. On one hand, he was flattered, of course. That Prompto would even consider getting a tattoo of his namesake...well, it was overwhelming. Yet he couldn’t help but worry that Prompto was rushing into this. What if he hated the tattoos? What if someday he came to regret them?

Dave finished sketching out the design on the blonde’s right wrist, releasing him as he moved to the other arm next. Prompto was still watching the questions flash across Gladio’s face when he reached up with his newly free hand to cup his cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ve thought a lot about this, and trust me when I say it’s what I want. You’ve changed my life, Gladio. If I can carry even a small piece of you, like a memento, around with me every day....” The corner of his mouth curved up as his voice trailed off, and Gladio took the cue. Ignoring Dave’s obnoxious grin, he leaned in for a kiss that gave Prompto all the permission he needed.

 

\----------------------

 

Prompto blew a soft breath from his lips, letting his head fall back against the cool sheets beneath him. His arms were raised, his hands resting gingerly on a pillow and wrists upturned to expose the fresh ink engraved into them. Black lines filled with all colors of the rainbow, proclaiming the bold shape of the Gladiolus flowers for the world to see. 

His body tensed suddenly, and as his hands shifted on the pillow he let out a whine. 

"Still tender, baby?" From somewhere near his hips, the deep baritone of Gladio's voice rumbled up to meet him. “Try not to move.” 

“S-sure,” Prompto laughed, the sound breathy and light. “Kinda hard with your,  _ hah,  _ t-tongue,  _ ahh -- right there!” _ ” 

He could feel the stretch of Gladio's smile against the cheeks of his ass as his boyfriend once again lowered his head and licked at sensitive flesh. Prompto did his best not to shiver when that tongue swirled and pressed at his entrance, struggled to keep from clenching his fists above the sheets while his muscles were slowly loosened and slicked. And even after Gladio finished opening him and had begun to position himself, Prompto somehow, miraculously, managed to keep his arms (mostly) still. 

The rest of him, however, was another story entirely. For the first time, the intense pressure of his boyfriend's thick length pushing into him was a welcome distraction. It quieted the pain in his wrists, gave Prompto something else to focus on as his body was slowly filled up. It forced him to breathe in short, shallow gasps that made his head spin and his legs tighten around Gladio's waist, his fresh tattoos nearly forgotten in lieu of the weight moving ever deeper inside him. 

He cried out, moaned Gladio's name again and again as his hips bucked and he sought more, more. Above him, broad shoulders flexed and tensed with each of Gladio's well-aimed thrusts, his own appreciation growing in time with his deep growls. Their voices rose, quickened, until they were spilling out in unison into the air around them. Prompto cried out as his prostate was assaulted, forgetting himself long enough to squeeze his fingers desperately into his palms -- and his eyes flew open at the mixture of pleasure and pain. 

"Gladio!" he gasped, and dropped his head back onto the sheets. "I,  _ ahh  _ \-- !" 

"Come on, baby."

"Gladdy...!"

"Prom.... Prom.  _ fuck, n-nh  _ \-- "

With a half-scream Prompto arched up, his hips pressing flush with Gladio's body as his cock spasmed in the space between. He spilled himself across both of their stomachs, but Gladio didn't slow down. As Prompto's body tightened like a vice around him, he clenched his eyes shut and drove into him, nearly snarling with the heat and friction that engulfed his cock. It was perfect, Prompto's body was perfect. As he chased his own orgasm, he glanced up into half-lidded blue eyes and saw the ecstasy in them. Gaze locked with his lover's, Gladio slammed forward and burst his climax deep in his gut. 

Energy continued to buzz in the air, but neither of them could move for what seemed like hours. Not until Gladio at last shifted his hips to let his softening cock slip from Prompto's body, then immediately moved to curl up at his side. Blonde locks brushed his lips as Prompto turned, albeit gingerly, to tuck his face against the rough-shaven skin of his neck. 

"Wow," he whispered after several moments, and Gladio had to agree. Chuckling, he scooped the smaller man into his arms and pressed his lips to the top of yellow hair. 

"Lemme see your wrists," he said, voice soft, and felt his lover shift against his to free his arms. "Do they still hurt?"

"Mmm, not as much. They feel kinda...tingly."

"Heh. You'll be complaining again by morning. Let's at least put some more cream on 'em before bed." 

A yawn, then Prompto managed a sleepy _ 'kay _ in response. Gladio laughed, and reached down to squeeze his boyfriend's hip before snatching the tube of cream from the nightstand. While Prompto drifted in and out of sleep, he carefully rubbed the cream into each of his tattoos, being careful to coat every dark line of ink thoroughly. When he was satisfied, he tossed the tube aside and rolled Prompto onto his back. 

"Think you can keep from bumping those around all night?" he grinned, nuzzling the soft hair behind Prompto's ear. Again, the response could hardly be considered intelligible, but thankfully Gladio knew the answer without having to hear it. He locked both arms and legs around his boyfriend, using his own body as an anchor to keep him from tossing and turning as much as usual. Better safe than sorry, and when it came to Prompto he didn't take any chances. 

Lights off, bedroom bathed in shadows and silence, Gladio lay half-awake for some time simply listening to the soft sounds of Prompto's breathing. He thought about the tattoos engraved over the scars on his wrists, about the different meanings symbolized by each of them, and about how strong Prompto was to have come so far from so little. He said he'd chosen the tattoos in order to have a memento of Gladio's strength to carry with him, but Gladio was the one who had ended up feeling inspired. 

He smiled as sleep began to wash over him. In the morning, after he woke up with Prompto safe in his arms, he would give Dave another call to see about getting him a new tattoo of his own. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tattoo reference (covering a scar)


End file.
